


Auditorium

by ramuda



Category: Love Live! Sunshine!!
Genre: F/F, Love Confessions, Love Letters, cyaron lesbian mothers helping their lesbian daughter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-05-10 10:41:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14735442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ramuda/pseuds/ramuda
Summary: The light turns on and Hanamaru forgets about the light switch, the spotlight illuminating the only thing she needed to see in the room.





	Auditorium

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aurantium](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurantium/gifts).



> HHHH THIS IS THE FIRST TIME IVE WRITTEN THEM!! i hope its good!!
> 
> this is a comm for my dear friend mimi! i went a lot over the word count LOL just when i was stressing about having too little...
> 
> anyway. i went off of my interpretation when you said “love letter” and i feel like ruby would have to use some type of non-direct communication as sort of an ice breaker before confessing, just to make sure everything is okay first
> 
> SORRY I DONT WANNA SPOIL IT ALL IN THE NOTES PLS ENJOY

The letter is already crumpled when it falls out of her shoe locker.

 

Hanamaru watches as it falls to the floor, its pink and frilly edges contrasting with the dark grey of the floor. She looks back to her locker, looks back to her feet, preparing herself for the envelope to vanish with the closing of her eyes.

 

A tiny peek through almost-closed eyelids confirms it’s still laying on the floor, its existence clear and tangible because of the way it screams against the dark atmosphere. It’s slightly bent on the edges, Hanamaru notices, deep wrinkles adding character to what is otherwise an example of remarkable craftsmanship. It’s sealed with a silver sticker, cut in a heart, just shiny enough to reflect a distortion of Hanamaru’s surprised face back at her.

 

“H-Hanamaru-chan..” Ruby mumbles, one of her vibrant pigtails peeking out next to Hanamaru’s shoulder. She looks like a child in a petting zoo, not a teenager looking at a piece of paper on the floor, anxious eyes hiding behind Hanamaru as a pillar of support.

 

“Is that for you?” Ruby asks, curiosity laced within her words. She swings her book bag over her shoulder, tip toeing over to where the letter rests. She glances at it, studying it as though she held a magnifying glass in her hand, before she leans over and pinches the edge with her fingers.

 

The front is more detailed than the back, Hanamaru sees when Ruby skittishly hands her the envelope. “Kunikida” is written in large calligraphy, every stroke of the hand visible in the silver ink. 

 

She holds onto the envelope tighter, her sweaty grip more than likely leaving marks on the flat, rosy surface. She stares holes through the paper, taking in every smudge of ink etched into it.

 

“Kunikida…” Hanamaru reads, flipping the envelope over again. She sees the lacey edges in more detail now, the white, flowy pattern marking where the opening begins. The silver sticker reflects her face closer, her features enlarged where she appears.

 

“Maybe it’s meant for the upperclassman Kunikida-san, zura?” Hanamaru stumbles over her words, flashing a nervous grin at Ruby. The red-haired girl looks slightly frustrated, her cheeks puffing out in annoyance. There’s a tint of a blush on her face, and she looks like an angry puppy, her face trying to feign intimidation. Ruby couldn’t look scary if she tried, to Hanamaru at least.

 

Ruby reassures her that it’s for her, that she doesn’t even know what’s inside yet, and that even if it  _ was _ a confession letter like she seemed to think; Hanamaru was cute, so who wouldn’t like her? But Ruby seems off, she’s unusually assertive today, and she seems like she  _ knows _ rather than her assuming. Hanamaru watches her skip off into the distance, her pigtails bouncing on her head, running to catch up to her sister. She continues to shrink until Hanamaru can no longer see the bright red against the hallway, the only color from the setting sun shining through the windows. She clutches the envelope harder in her palm, anxious for what it could be.

  
  


 

The envelope simply sits on her desk for a while. 

 

Hanamaru watches it out of the corner of her eye, as if it were a baby trying to get into things it wasn’t supposed to. She’s scared, to be honest, less because of the chance that it isn’t for her, but for the off chance that it  _ is  _ for her. She tries to will away the sight of the pink packaging and the shiny seal, trying to become indulged and sucked in by the tattered pages of her old library book, but it doesn’t work, the bright color in her peripheral vision taking her out of whatever trance she tries to enter.

 

She puts it off for a while longer by any means possible, counting the crumblies on her ceiling, rereading the same sentences over, and over, and over…

 

Hanamaru shifts her weight on the bed, so that she’s making direct eye contact with the note. She glares at it for another moment before sighing in defeat. “Zura…” She mumbles as she dazedly walks over to her desk, her pajama pants languidly dragging against the cool wood of her floor.

 

She opens the letter smoothly, careful to not completely demolish the gracefully crafted envelope. The stationary is just as neat as what it came in, Hanamaru accounts, the flowers made out of film stuck on the corners making her gasp in wonder. It looks like one straight out of a book, the fancy calligraphy seeming like it would be welcoming her to a wizarding school, instead of a message from one of her peers.

 

The letter starts out with no name, momentarily petrifying Hanamaru, for maybe this  _ really was _ Hanamaru-san’s letter, the enigmatic sender confused between the similarities between their family names. At the top lies a poem instead, a soft introduction to what Hanamaru sees as paragraphs of text.

 

“ _ Roses are red, Violets are blue, Would you be surprised if I said I love you? _ ”

 

Hanamaru would laugh if she was one to take something like this less seriously. Behind the basic poem she can see the hesitation in the writing, the shaky handiwork and the awkward spacing between letters a sheer contrast to the the fine simplicity of the cover. 

 

“ _ Hello! I’m not really sure where I should start something like this off. _ ” The sender begins, pushing off what they want to say like Hanamaru neglected reading it. 

 

“ _ To be as honest as possible, I think I may have fallen in love with you. You make me feel warm, and like there’s a fuzzy teddy bear resting in my chest right above where my heartbeat rests. _ ” Hanamaru blushes, the way the writer used such childish analogies was cute, but were they really talking about her? She tried to shake off her negative thoughts, scanning through the rest of the letter.

 

“ _ If you want to find out who I am, please find me in the auditorium tomorrow before school. _ ”

  
  
  


 

The auditorium is cold in the morning. Hanamaru shivers a bit, the open air creating leeway for a draft to follow her in from outside, taking advantage of the fact that Uranohoshi hadn’t started wearing their winter uniforms yet. Hanamaru nervously pushes through the double doors to take her to the main section of the auditorium, peeking her head in before she steps in all the way.

 

“H-Hello..? Is anybody here?” She whispers, fumbling her fingers around the wall in search for the light switch. “Darnit… Where is it…” Hanamaru mumbles, her fingers dragging around a bit longer in hopes of feeling something other than the bumpy texture of the stucco on the wall.

 

All of the sudden, the light turns on. Well, one of them does, actually, the spotlight gleaming from the ceiling and casting a single concentrated ray of light down onto the stage. There stands Ruby, her hands fisted nervously in her skirt, her eyes wandering around the auditorium. 

 

Hanamaru looks around for a moment, trying to figure out if she was really here, or if this was some sort of cruel fever dream. But the way Ruby’s eyes blazed into hers was something that her mind couldn’t conjure for itself, so brave, so out of character, for the timid girl. Her mind stops, as Ruby begins to speak.

 

“Hanamaru-chan…” Ruby mumbles, barely audible even in the echoed silence in the auditorium. 

 

“Louder!” Comes a whisper from side stage, You cheering her on from the sidelines. Chika pushes her way past You to where Ruby can see her emerge from the darkness. “You can do it!” She whispers, flashing a squished thumbs up.

 

“I was the one who wrote that letter and I uh.. I didn’t know how else to tell you this but You-san and Chika-san and Onee-chan helped me out, and they said that it sounded like a good idea, and I didn’t know if I could come up with a better way so I took their advice, and I think I’m more nervous than usual but it feels nice letting it out like this, and I think that I have a crush on you Hanamaru-chan, well could I even call it a crush anymore, I just really like you Hanamaru-chan, and I want to hold your hand and kiss you and call you my girlfriend, and I would just really hope you feel the same way because I,” Ruby takes the first breath in the entire spiel, taking in a gulp of air larger than her lung capacity.

 

Hanamaru is still frozen in place, genuinely shocked at what’s happening. She tunes out the second half of Ruby’s tangent to walk closer to the other girl, the clack of her uniform shoes vibrating off the walls. 

 

“Ruby-chan, why didn’t you tell me earlier?” Hanamaru laughs, a comforting giggle accompanying the blush rising on her cheeks. She feels relieved now, that she knows that the admirer was Ruby, that it was the quality of her craftsmanship that sent chills down her spine, the cheesy poem written by her best friend, the girl in front of her.

 

“You make me feel warm too.” Hanamaru whispers, a blush running from Ruby’s toes all the way up to her face, an imaginary alarm going off in her head because of how embarrassingly flustered she is. 

 

“And of course you can call me your girlfriend, silly, you’re the only person I could’ve wanted to give me that letter, zura.”


End file.
